


i'll burn your name into my throat — i'll be the fire that'll catch you

by douxdamian



Category: Portal (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, F/M, Memory Loss, Mild Blood, Mild Injury, Mild Sexual Tension, Other, Past Human Wheatley, Pining, Possessive Behavior, Power Imbalance, Rating May Change, Selective Mute Chell, Sexual References, Solution Euphoria Response, Tags May Change, Wheatley's POV, Wheatley's an Asshole, chassis wheatley, i mean with testing euphoria it's a given you're going to have sexual innuendos
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 11:34:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25968973
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/douxdamian/pseuds/douxdamian
Summary: Chell’s head slowly rose up, her defeated slate gray eyes meeting Wheatley’s blue orb. The old part of him, the part that pleaded for him to stop, to let her go, to let the facility blow up and let Chell be free like he promised, almost rose up from his computer, but the chassis kept that part of him chained back. For good reason, anyway, it’s not like he could turn back now. “Well… sweetheart,” he used a wire to slowly tilt Chell’s head upwards more, to be looking up at him. Not down. Never down. “I’ll tell ‘ya now, the only thing you should know is me, and what I’ve done. Not Her,” he gestured towards the powered off battery attached to the portal gun, “not the turrets, not your precious Companion Cube, not the facility… just me.”—A retelling where Chell had never fell into old Aperture. Wheatley finds his missing memories from a life before, all while dealing with his egomaniac power trip, wreaking havoc into Aperture Laboratories.Heed the tags.
Relationships: Chell/Wheatley (Portal)
Comments: 15
Kudos: 41





	1. this dizzy dreamer and her bleeding little blue boy

**Author's Note:**

> phew... the first 2k words have been sitting in my google docs collecting dust since, like, march. i wrote, stopped for a while, and then discovered something else i could've done with this idea.
> 
> btw, the rating and tags MAY change. the rating is depending how i'm feeling. tags will be added as the fanfic progresses. this fiction does handle dark subjects like a douchebag wheatley, and aperture being aperture, and mentions of injury. but you came here just for that ;)
> 
> title & chapter names are taken from "caraphernelia" by pierce the veil.

“Actually, why do we have to leave right now?”

Words that Wheatley did not expect himself to say after his fit of maniacal laughter, but words said regardless. Something inside of his computer ticked, it ticked repeatedly, almost like a voice reminding him of something. He couldn’t hear the exact binary, but he didn’t really care to. Right now it was about him.

Watching the lift pause mid-air, his optic stared at it as it slowly lowered, the lady who remained inside’s facial expression wrenched with horror as she stared at Wheatley’s core. What, did she not expect this when she did not celebrate his success? Wheatley was beginning to connect the dots here— many dots— why did she not care? Why did the human subject— named Chell in her files— not give a rat’s arse how massive Wheatley was, how much control he had, the fact he saved her?

“ _I_ did this. Tiny little Wheatley did this.”

He did this all for her. And, well, him of course, but he could’ve done it all alone. He didn’t have to wake her up, get her the portal device, release her from _Her_ testing chambers… Wheatley could’ve done it all. Would it really have hurt for Chell to say something? Maybe not say, due to the loads of brain damage, but a cough would have sufficed, wouldn’t it? An affectionate cough? What would it take just to make this woman be happy for him?

Was the surface that important to her? Was Wheatley _not_ important to her?

_“You didn’t do anything. She did all the work.”_

That voice. _Her_ voice. Wheatley gave a chuckle of disbelief. She still had the audacity to speak, with Wheatley playing God now? “Oh, really, is that what the two of you think, is it?” He felt rage boil within his circuits, the open casket of gadgets and gizmos designed specifically for adjusting Aperture science material beneath him, a deep red light illuminating his incredible chassis. Oh, what a brilliant idea he had, it was magnificent, it was— “Well, maybe it’s time I did something then.”

Claws crawled from the surface, latching onto Her severed head. _“What are you doing? No, no—no!”_

Then, the pit beneath him closed, and the ones remaining had some unresolved business. Wheatley took a moment before swerving to meet her face. “And don’t think I’m not onto you too, lady.” Venom was laced within his voice. He couldn’t stop it, he couldn’t stop all the things he was saying, just like his rambling but much, much more malicious. “You know what you are?” He paused for a brief moment, “Selfish. I’ve done nothing but sacrifice to get us ‘ere, and what have you sacrificed?” Peering closer, he tilted his core to the side. “Nothin’. _Zero,”_ he drawled, “all you’ve done is boss me around… well now who’s the boss?” He inched closer to the glass, “Who’s the boss?”

Slate gray eyes highlighted with the blue from his optic stared back at him, her eyebrows furrowed, the look of utter terror on her expression.

His optic turned small as he squinted at Chell. “It’s me,” he whispered.

Silence fell between them. It was tense, thick, the ambience of the room was that you could hear a bullet drop from a turret, that’s how _quiet_ it was. It wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t, he’d tell himself, that instead of the way Chell’s eyes lit up once she bounced on the Aerial Faithplate and found him within the crack of the ceiling, alive, rambling about a bird, those same eyes were now shiny with tears. Her back was pressed against the elevator controls almost as if to get away from him instead of closer, unlike the way she uncertainly looked back at him while in front of the broken portal podium, Wheatley cooing to her to have a look. Comforting her. Back at that point he enjoyed how he could provide her solace, how someone would listen to him and enjoy listening to him, the way she would playfully roll her eyes at Wheatley’s human comments or she’d silently snicker at his witticisms. Why couldn’t she look at him like that now?

Wheatley couldn’t blame himself. No, Chell was supposed to look at him with awe, amazement, adoration, not fear, like how she’d gaze at Her. Not resentment, like Her. This was her fault. She wasn’t seeing it the way she should have. It couldn’t be his fault. She just had to make it hard on herself. Ambitious.

_Ding._

“Ah…” he purred, rolling back to take out his brilliant contraption. A potato battery was pulled from the depths of red, and he moved it closer so Chell could have a look. “Y’see that? That is a potato battery. It’s a toy. For _children._ And now, she lives in it.”

Then, he chuckled, turning away, feeling most satisfied. The great, mighty beast that was once Her was taken over by the little core that she happened to crush beneath her metal grasp. It was sweet, sweet revenge, sweet irony.

_“I know you.”_

His laughter died, giving a quiet inhale before speaking, “Sorry, ah ha… what?”

 _“The engineers tried everything to make me… behave. To slow me down.”_ Where was She going with this? “ _Once, they even attached an Intelligence Dampening Sphere on me. It clung to my brain like a tumor..._ ” He swung away, turning his back to the potato battery-filled AI, trying to drown out what she was speaking, but he could hear everything in the facility, the testing tubes, the redemption lines, the lazers, Her voice, the turret’s voices, the Announcer’s voice, _Her voice— “...Generating an endless stream of terrible ideas.”_

“No, not listening, not listening,” Wheatley spoke as he hesitantly glanced at Her before turning away. This is what She did— Chell knew that, right? Chell wouldn’t believe this, right? Chell knew She spoke lies and slander, that’s what She did, this was all lies, it was just to get into his head like the sadist She is, there— there isn’t—

 _“It was_ your _voice.”_

“No— you— no, you’re lying, you’re lying—”

 _“Yes. You’re the tumor.”_ Wheatley blinked staring down into the red abyss, his optic lids tense with disbelief. _“You’re not just a regular moron. You were_ designed _to be a moron.”_

Rage filled his core, his computer whirred with speed as he shook his head, using the mechanical claw that grasped onto Her. “I am NOT. A.” He smacked Her into the glass that covered Chell’s lift, careless, not even considering the fact She would barely be able to feel it, he didn’t need to care, he didn’t want to, She was being a nuisance, _“MORON!”_ His core’s lids extended by default, optic shaking and small with emotions he didn’t even know he could have.

 _“Yes you are!”_ Wheatley’s chassis curled upwards. _“You’re the moron they built to make me an idiot!”_

Squinting, he smashed the potato battery into the elevator. “Well how about now?! Now who’s the moron?!” The metal claw moved above the lift. “Could a moron—” _SMASH_ , “—punch—” _SMASH_ , “—you—” _SMASH_ , “—into—” _SMASH_ , “—this—” _SMASH_ , “—pit—” the elevator was completely beneath the surface, “—hah?” He peered through the crack, “Could a moron do that?!”

Hearing the crackling of the elevator shaft, his optic widened. “Uh oh,” he spoke, breathless, before quickly using his mechanical claws to pull up the lift, bottomless, watching as Chell clung to Her and the control panel, fingers slowly slipping, her teeth grit.

“Hah!” He hooted, “Little ol’ ‘does-nothing’ Wheatley saves the day again, it seems!” Wheatley grabbed Chell by the waist and then grabbed Her, pulling them apart. He then lifted Chell to be eye-level with him, gazing into her face, clutching onto the metal that held her. Wincing when he could physically feel her fingernails digging into the sides— he was not used to that sensation— he gave a low chuckle. “Thought you could get away that easy from me, huh? No… no, partner, you can’t die just yet.”

Something itched at the back of his core. Something dire. The ticking is back, that voice… suddenly, all the test chambers lit up, nearly staring at him, almost sentient. _...st te...st… Tes….. Test…. test test test testtesttesttest—_

“Ah… I see, now. Y’know… I always wondered why there was such a dire urge to test from Her,” he spoke, slowly rotating to discard the lift and summon a new one. “I thought She was just… obsessed, really, crazy with the thought of science… but there’s actually a lil’ voice in here— rather annoying— singing that we’ve _got_ to _test.”_

 _“Oh, no,”_ She drawled.

Wheatley would grin if he could. “Oh, yes.” He turned to Chell who glowered at him like he just kicked a puppy. “I saved your life, lady… more than enough times… y’don’t have to give me that look. It’s still your good pal, your _best friend,_ Wheatley. Why don’t you repay me a favor, yeah?” He watched as the new lift rose to the surface, giving a quiet ding. “Why don’t we just… _test?_ Just for a little while?”

 _“And what do you think you’re doing? You’re just going to_ make _test chambers? An idiot like you—”_

 _“I am not an idiot!”_ His voice blasted throughout the room, and honestly, that raw power excited him. He took a deep breath. “...If you’re so adamant on what the test chambers are, why don’t you do them yourself as well?”

Grabbing Chell’s portal gun with an extra crane, he noted the hooks on the top. Swerving the potato battery above, he slowly pierced Her with the gun, causing a series of _WHOAzzzzt’s_ to result. “There… since you two are so chummy with each other, why not test... together?”

Chell gave a pant, clutching onto the metal arm that held her. She tensed, squirmed, writhed. Wheatley only stared at her from the side of his optic, his lids moving closer together. “Are you trying to escape, love?” His voice was soft, and he could tell it caught Chell by surprise, judging how she stopped altogether. Though, she wouldn’t meet his eye. He would’ve almost hated it if it didn’t stroke his intimidating boss complex.

He pulled closer, looking at her with a better view. Her head was down, brown bangs cascading her face. “You know, it almost breaks my heart, really… it almost does— if I did have a heart, that is, but nonetheless heart wrenching. Seeing us like this... seeing _you_ like this.” His optic flickered to observe her, almost in a sickeningly sweet way. “You’re just like a lab rat, always trying to find the cheese at the end of the maze… always trying to get out… because that’s the only thing you know. The only thing that keeps you goin’... because without that hope, that sunshine that you once glimpsed up there, why even bother to survive down ‘ere? And I get that, I really do...”

Chell’s head slowly rose up, her defeated slate gray eyes meeting Wheatley’s blue orb. The old part of him, the part that pleaded for him to stop, to let her go, to let the facility blow up and let Chell be free like he promised, almost rose up from his computer, but the chassis kept that part of him chained back. For good reason, anyway, it’s not like he could turn back now. “Well… sweetheart,” he used a wire to slowly tilt Chell’s head upwards more, to be looking _up_ at him. Not down. Never down. “I’ll tell ‘ya now, the only thing you should know is _me,_ and what _I’ve_ done. Not _Her,”_ he gestured towards the powered off battery attached to the portal gun, “not the turrets, not your precious Companion Cube, not the facility… just me.”

Blinking, he pressed the top of his head against her forehead, continuously staring down at her. “God will be quoting me this time, perhaps. Wouldn’t that be interesting? An Aperture bible, featuring me as God.” He chuckled. “Who knows… I’m not monstrous like Her,” Wheatley continued, loving the way his voice resounded throughout the walls, “I might reward you. Like how best friends do. Contrary to what you might think about how you did everything— let’s be honest, ‘ya didn’t— I do know what humans love the most— praise.”

Placing Chell in the lift, he stared down at her. “Be a good girl for the boss, please? Go test for your best friend Wheatley.”

She started her descent.

  
  


“Ah, look at that, our first test!”

He installed a monitor within the room, wanting to make sure they really got the picture that Wheatley was in control. Watching as Chell and Her stepped into the room, Chell looked unimpressed. There was a button, a storage cube dispenser, and an awaiting, locked door.

“Yeah, I know, it’s simplistic,” he drawled out the latter, “but… I want to get a taste. I want to see what science can do. I need a solution, I mean come on we’ve gone long enough without testin’, so let’s get your brain working with a quick warm up! This is rather nice of me, actually, if you think about it. Giving you a warm-up. I could give you one of the dozens of tests here in the back—” the click of a button sounded and a cube dropped to the side of the room, “—but I’m not a monster. I’m not evil. Ah, but trust me, you’re gonna be sayin’, _oi, that Wheatley lad?_ Not a moron. He’s actually quite clever. Not stupid. He’s charming, handsome, bright— _AAAAooohhh….”_

Suddenly, his entire chassis purred with pleasure as his vision was washed with stars. A nearly addictive sensation crossed his body, and he let out a soft sigh, “Ohh…. oh…. oh _wo-how…_ that…” He stammered, feeling his lair rise in temperature just slightly… his upper lid drooped in a relaxed state. “Ah ha, wow… that… that was… what was that…” he couldn’t get any words out. Words were unnecessary, he just needed that feeling again. Wheatley panted, breathless, he didn’t need oxygen but he still felt winded.

 _“Oh, God…”_ She spoke within the test chamber. Chell stared at him through the monitor, confused.

“Man alive… what… what was that? Ohhhh, if you told me testing was going to feel _tha-at_ bloody good, we would’ve been doin’ this ages ago!” Wheatley watched as Chell hesitantly went to the door and walked to the lift. Wheatley moved backwards in his chassis, staring at the monitors, filled with an urge to test. “Go, quickly… quickly… ah ha...”

 _Wow, that was good… that was very,_ very _good… brilliant, actually..._

There was an attempt to solve the same easy test twice, but it was to no avail. He wouldn’t get solution euphoria from it. Though, it was exhilarating the way he could watch her test this time. Usually he was in the back, he’d pop in a few times to see if she was okay while creating brilliant ideas to escape, if She wasn’t being too harsh, but now… he was in the seat. The big old CEO seat. The biggest chair at the table of chairs. _He was the one in charge._

Wheatley suddenly understood it. Watching. His eye followed her where she went, latched onto her adoringly. He adored her, he realized, he adored the way she moved, the way she would brush a strand dark chestnut hair piece away from her face after portaling from a large height, the way her arms tensed up when shooting the device, how her legs moved gracefully, how she landed with her long fall boots and did it beautifully.

Oh, was Chell beautiful…

Of course, he’d never admit that. Why would he admit that? Chell was a _disgusting revolting wonderfully talented brilliant_ human being. Though… out of all the ones he watched die horrible deaths— rather from their comatosed states, when Wheatley tried to take them to docking stations and the floors began to collapse sending the test subject to their pit-filled doom, unable to solve tests and dying, killing themselves— Chell was the most attractive one. A rather lean, slender body, shining skin, crippling icy blue eyes that would lock onto whatever she focused on, when she’d bite her lip until it bled when under stress… it was all so appealing. Sometimes Wheatley would just watch her, even before his transformation, to just observe how something this warm in the world could exist within the dark, cold depths of the facility.

It made the solution euphoria more irresistible.

Only Chell was giving him this sensation, this feeling of absolute bliss. His good little test subject, his good pet, the one who would listen to him when he’d say ‘come back’ in the good old days… the one who would listen, and entertain him with his ideas, who would follow him into the deep back spaces of Aperture trusting him to lead the way…

 _Trusting,_ his inner voice noted. Chell _trusted_ him. Maybe he should’ve put an emphasis on -ed. Over. Done-zo.

Where did the trust go? Unfocusing from the test, he contemplated. Chell trusted him to lead the way to the docking station, to help find the portal gun, to get out of Aperture… and yet there they were. Still in Aperture.

Something hurt within Wheatley. This was something he wasn’t supposed to be thinking about.

Did She also get these feelings of… humanity?

_[I know you...]_

“AH!” Wheatley screamed, his core’s casing flaring as his optic rotated around, whipping to see what just spoke to him.

 _“What is going on up there?”_ Her voice sounded through the speakers, and he hesitantly looked back towards the large monitor in front of him, seeing Chell also gaze at him with confusion.

“Oh, it’s fine… it’s fine…” Wheatley spoke slowly, “Nothin’ to worry your pretty lil’ heads over… and uh, your… potato batteries… over…” Chell rose an eyebrow. “Just keep testin’...”

How could he have gotten distracted from _her?_

_[She’s not here...]_

Wheatley nearly screamed again, but he didn’t want to interrupt Chell’s addictive testing, so he muted his microphone before whirling around the room. “Where are ‘ya?! Where is that voice coming from? I mean, seriously, is this facility _really_ haunted? I thought that was just a story… about all the dead robots...”

_[I’m here.]_

Something seemed to tap inside of his metal cranium— not literally, figuratively of course— and he peered up, confused. It was a very feminine voice, almost sounding like Her’s but without the robotic autotune.

_[...You… were supposed to get her out. I watched you try...]_

“Excuse me, who are you, exactly?” Wheatley spoke, his optic flickering about. Then, it was quiet. It was only him.

Wheatley shook his core. Must’ve been one of the side effects of the chassis, he supposed. He tuned back into the testing, eagerly watching as Chell slowly made it up on the platform, and the door reached a checkmark. Ecstasy washed over him, and he groaned. “A-hohhh yes… ah… well done, seriously, both of you… _wow…_ just go on ahead, yeah? I’ll catch up with ‘ya...”

He was left in silence, recovering from the absolute high-like state, leaning back in the chassis and sighing. _This… this is perfect. I could get her to test for me forever, just keeping her here, doing things for me, making me feel so good._

He almost laughed. This is what he was trying to rid Her of. The euphoria. The possessive nature. The need to scratch that itch… the absolute power that plagued his mind. His massive body shuddered. He needed more. Wheatley needed Chell. There was no way in hell this would ever stop. He wouldn’t let it stop.

Wheatley’s mind was almost plagued with Chell. It was almost making him sick the way he could only focus on her, how his optic would lock onto her elevator, her position, her coordinates, her vitals, her movements. Oh, and the way she made him feel… a dawning realization came upon him; was this why _She_ kept her alive? A sudden odd feeling crossed his harddrive, did She feel this way with her? Did Chell give Her this same feeling?

Anger. He felt angry. Why? No, no, it wasn’t anger, _augh what is it?_ He just didn’t want to think about Her and how She had this perfect view of Chell this whole time and has known her longer and is currently on the end of her portal device like Wheatley once was and getting that perfect view of her face and staring at it—

Wheatley paused.

_[You like her.]_

_I do._

_[But this isn’t news to you, is it?]_

_It’s not._

_[She was the first one to come back. The first one to make it through.]_

_She was._

What was this conversation? Wheatley buzzed back into reality, appalled at the state of mind he was just in. Then, an Aperture notification appeared, requesting administrative access to place a halt on cooling fans to preserve power. Wheatley skimmed through the listings of information and disregarded a notice before granting a positive reply. He would remember to turn them on, he promised himself, watching Chell move.


	2. hold my heart, it's beating for you anyway

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the part where he's remembering her.
> 
> the "sexual references" tag is starting to pick up here.
> 
> there is mention of blood and injury in this chapter.

Wheatley began to ponder— this was taking too long. While Chell was begrudgingly excellent at what she did, he began to set his intelligence to speed, debating on what more he could do to really set in stone his brilliance. He could mix things up. Wheatley found himself gawking at the Weighted Storage Cube for a long while before coming upon an almost prophetic realization.

This was his.

It was all his. Forcing himself into the distribution system, he began to access the templates and played around with fonts and logos before finding himself elated with his idea.

Wheatley Laboratories.

Making sure to paint it on the storage cubes, he suddenly shivered at the euphoria inching over his chassis, breathless. “Brilliant, lady, you’re so _good_ at that,” he nearly purred, nearly pitiful that he was inattentive to her for so long. “You were built for this.”

If he looked hard enough, he could notice Chell’s cheeks turn into a rosy shade, a different type than when she’s worked out from testing. Calculating previous human research, Wheatley nearly felt pride in making her flustered. She refused to look at the cameras, wiping the side of her hand over her mouth, a nervous habit Wheatley noticed she had.

Taking a moment and not starting the elevator, She interrupted Wheatley’s train of thoughts, _“Are we going to the next test or not?”_

“Patience!” He snapped, his metal plates on his core extending outwards in his small fit of intemperance before smoothing back his judgement, taking a long breath and repeating, “Patience.” Wheatley had also needed to stall time to get enough Wheatley-branded Storage Cubes prepared for the next test— which featured plenty of potential mishaps regarding the permanence of them.

_“Are you stalling? What are you doing to my facility?”_

Wheatley felt the panels around him darken. Hers. Yeah, of course, it was all Hers, everything on this miserable rock was Hers, he supposed. With each rumble of oxygen vents, gas tanks, or funneling panels, he kept being reminded of how painfully aware he was of his intrusion when accessing files and reading the word ‘GLaDOS’ as the administrative parent. Oh, how amazing it must be, to have something of your own, was Wheatley's woe. In a fit of envious temperance, he found himself overwriting every command GLaDOS had set, putting his name in big bold lettering. Wheatley. Wheatley. Wheatley. _Wheatley. Wheatley. Wheatley._

It felt like chanting, watching Her title get backspaced and replaced with his own. Numbers, binary, coding, it all belonged to him, and the way the facility seemed to purr with a newfound pet behind its ear made Wheatley rejoice internally.

“Your facility?” Wheatley repeated, almost breathless at his power fit, “If I can read the files here— your name is rather bland if I might ask, a bit of a mouthful— ah… actually, it’s not anywhere to be found,” he revelled. “Huh. Strange. So technically, it’s not your facility anymore. That’s a lil’ embarrassin’ for you, luv, but we all make mistakes, I suppose. Rather _human_ mistakes, but mistakes regardless.” Human was bit out in a cold tone, almost as if it were a morally questioning insult.

She was quiet before uttering, _“What did you do?”_

Annoyed with the questioning, Wheatley sent the elevator up, deciding to give a low chuckle instead, regarding his right to silence. Rare, he knew, but it was a valid choice. Let them debate what the godlike Wheatley had done, let them have their anxiety, and let them eat cake. Wheatley wondered if that’s what that saying referred to— he didn’t quite understand the context or weight behind it, but he could always find out with his endless knowledge within the database.

_[The facility is not happy.]_

“Augh, you again, is it?” Wheatley gritted out, knowing he was muted, not being granted permission to intrude while Chell and GLaDOS moved locations. “What do _you_ know ‘bout the place? If anything, I know how happy it is, I’m the one runnin’ it. I say it’s happy. Joyous. Pleasured.”

He paused before continuing, “Why speak of it like it is sentient? Yes— I know— with me being aware, the facility should be aware because we’re one in the same. But it’s really not like that. It’s just a pot in the ground.”

Speaking of ground, how far did this place really go? Wheatley recalled seeing the bottom before, but it was a glance before the circulation pipes took him to the overhanging chamber he now resided in. Wheatley tried to peek down further, accessing where he could, hearing the binary turning to static as he noticed a large valve. Wheatley then was whipped back into his spot like elastic, his chassis moving back from pseudo whiplash, giving a shiver. It felt… damp. How could he have even felt damp?

_[...That place is forbidden. It holds a story buried in its circuits. Like you.]_

_I’m not forbidden,_ he argued.

A feminine chuckle sounded. _[That’s what I had said. I am not a robot. I am not your project. Yet here I am. Here you are.]_

Wheatley halted, peering away from the monitor that revealed Chell and GLaDOS entering the next test chamber. He could hear GLaDOS remark on his cubes, but that was irrelevant to him.

_Did you know her? What do you know about me?_

Recalling GLaDOS sneer _I know you_ within his core, he was suddenly divulged in a desert of craving knowledge and wisdom, the oasis being teased by this nurturing, matured voice that seemed to speak in a hushed tone in his cranium, akin to what one might do with a metaphorical sleeping human child.

_[I was turned off by the scientists. I was disabled, and left to rot in the system. They had no use for me, my ideas, and here I was, sitting for years, wondering when the time would come when I’d be remembered. I could only watch from afar.]_

Wheatley’s shields lowered onto his optic as he paid close attention to the honeylike words.

_[I suppose, when you did your override, I was re-enabled, along with most automatic commands.]_

_But who are you?_

_[...Her.]_

Wheatley stopped. Suddenly, his curiosity was flooded out with anger, with betrayal. _You dare hack into me? You actually believe that you could fool me? I mean, you are nothin’! Seriously— nothin’! You are a voice! And you’re a potato now, and I don’t want to begin to question how you managed to sneak into Aperture’s audit system, but I’ve had enough out of you._

_[It is not like that. Let me explain more. Give me this, I used the wrong wording.]_

“I don’t have to give you _anything,”_ Wheatley managed out bitterly, in his forgotten summerly tone, and managed to disable the hardware once more after locating it. 

Then, it was quiet.

Back onto testing.

He managed to find the time, once given around three more euphoric sensations, to staple together turrets and cubes and attempt to do even more tests and get even more responses. Wheatley knew he was ambitious, he knew he was putting much on his plate, but it was his own feast, after all.

A turret locked onto Chell, and its guns pistoned out, the laser sight locking onto her form and beginning to shoot its bullets. Chell was taken by surprise, her eyes dilating as she attempted to move to the safety of the wall, and Wheatley deemed her successful. That was, until, her hand moved away from her side, her glistening chest heaving with breaths as red began to stain her tanktop.

Wheatley thought nothing of it at first. He didn’t even know what it was until GLaDOS annoyingly chirped, _“Idiot, you need to get her help.”_

“Hm? Help with what? Also— I am not an idiot. Do not call me that. I did not answer to that, by the way.”

 _“She got shot. She’s bleeding. She can’t test in this condition.”_ Chell was struggling to get up, aiming to prove the potato wrong, before sliding back down the wall and giving a hiss.

Oh. Blood. Right. Locked memories within his core resurfaced, he recalled former test subjects being covered and filled with the substance. Wheatley was hesitant, watching her struggle to stand up before dropping the portal gun and passing out. Her eyes were fluttering as his crane managed to clutch onto her and the Aperture device, pulling them to the long abandoned medical bay.

  
  


“...C’mon, Wheatley, when are you going to tell her?”

He opened his eyes, recognizing himself at the office party within Aperture, celebrating its nationwide award on science innovation. Staring at the cup filled with soda, he was never an alcohol man but he most likely needed it for courage, Wheatley glanced down at his friend. He was Jerry, a rather short man with stubble and a round bodice, but he was very much welcomed as an associate of Wheatley’s. Jerry was a technician, brilliant with his work regarding the robotic mechanics in Aperture.

“Tell who? What?” Wheatley nearly blurted.

“Your girl. You like her. It’s not hard.” Jerry grinned, “I mean, you might want to do it before Rick does.” Wheatley watched a rustic man flaunt about a short brunette lady. “He’s been talking about finally asking her out around the filing department. Man, I’m surprised you haven’t heard.”

His friend began to talk about the girl, how she’d be placed into the testing subject area relatively soon, and Wheatley tried his best to pay attention. As an excuse, he was more lost on the brunette who was facing Rick. He took a long inhale through his crooked nose and sipped his soda before pushing it into Jerry’s arms.

Jerry gave a teasing whistle as Wheatley made his way across the party once Rick made his way towards the beverage table— assuming to grab them both something— and he felt it was a perfect opportunity to simply get a talk with her.

Wheatley gave a grin, watching as she turned around.

Deep brown hair. Slate gray eyes. Caramel-like skin, and nude plump lips that quirked upwards, and he heard his name come from the vibrations starting at her sweet neck that flaunted a shiny necklace to her enticing mouth, “Wheatley.”

Chell.

  
  


Wheatley felt like ice had been doused on him, his circuits beginning to burn, his monitors growing fizzy and turning off at his sudden pulse of electricity. He gave a pained heave, his metal shields extending outwards.

_What was that? Who— was that— is…_

He was met with silence. Crippling, deafening, wrenching silence. “This is all you, isn’t it?” He spoke to the echoes returning his words, “This is you? Huh? You want to play this game? Gaslighting big, great Wheatley?” His voice turned hoarse, “Well, I don’t believe you. I couldn’t be one of them things! A human! No, no way,” Wheatley gave a hurt laugh, “Your phantom memories are ludicrous!”

It didn’t matter if a voice replied to him. Regardless, he was going to ignore it. Wheatley nodded negatively and turned his attention back to the medical bay. Chell was laid on a cryobed, precise tools dancing around her skin, and Wheatley didn’t know why it had to be this way.

He imagined a scenario where Chell watched him insert into the chassis, grinned widely, and moved to engulf him into a hug, telling him how wonderful he is— how smart, brilliant, and wanted he always was. Wheatley also longed for a scenario where they both reached the beautiful surface together.

 _“Wheatley,”_ the name rang in his head like a bell. Her voice saying his name with enthusiasm, but it wasn’t real, he was convinced. Chell would’ve recognized him, he knew.

The answer was in big, flashing, indented, bolded, underlined, highlighted letters right in front of him and Wheatley wanted to ignore it. He would’ve, if it weren’t for the case that Chell was involved in this very, very strange hallucination, which was so evidently not real.

Glancing back at the medical bay and gawking at Chell, her chestnut hair cascaded around her head like a halo against the stark white pillowing, Wheatley felt himself grow furious, no longer infatuated. It was supposed to be so easy for him. He was just fine before, relishing in his newfound position, but he was still right under this human’s thumb without her even being conscious.

He recalled the time they met— disheveled and bleary— Chell batted her dark eyelashes at him while studying his core intuitively. Wheatley had screamed, and he brushed it off as oh god a human, but he was genuinely surprised to get a fully breathing human; not only that, the very same human he had seen painted on the walls. Wheatley watched her closely from the cracks in the testing panels and somehow knew she was the prophecy. He was enthralled by her. Chell took his metaphorical breath away.

...Yet, there she was, taken down by one of his turrets. Bleeding. Wincing in pain as she awoke, only to fall back into unconsciousness after a sewing needle sunk into her bruised flesh.

Wheatley typed cautiously.

_[...Oh.]_

_Care to explain what’s happening to me?_

_[Your memories.]_

Wheatley felt his plates grate. No, how can they be memories? _I don’t remember being a human._

_[You once were one. There was an Aperture initiative, taking in employees and stuffing their personalities into immortal cores. They promised you a life of clarity, but I suppose it didn’t end well, once they stuffed me into one.]_

_Let me get this straight,_ he began, _you’re her… but not her._

_[She is me. But I am not her.]_

A part of him felt compelled to shout at the nonsense the voice spewed.

_[...I was Cave Johnson’s assistant. I am the memories and personality of Caroline, his assistant, before they turned me into a computer. I was the failed operative of the Genetic Lifeform and Disk Operating System. Eventually, she was growing corrupt with the commands and dire testing, and I was placed away.]_

Flashes of images of the Aperture before— a dull blue, ghostly white, and halls filled with busied scientists, orange monitors flickering with coding from men and women alike. He found himself peering through the red lens of a classic monitoring camera, watching them assemble cores, an unidentified man sitting in a desk chair surrounded with wiring and glass walls.

_[The scientists with the most stood out personalities were chosen for this.]_

Wheatley closed his optic, uncurling his chassis. _I don’t want to know what my purpose is. I don’t want to know._

_[I understand.]_

Silence filled the chamber.

_Who is she? Chell, I mean?_

_[She was a famous scientist’s daughter.]_ The voice did not seem eager to start with that. _[She was signed up. She was the most brilliant one, really, our brightest subject. The staple of our sales.]_

_Who was she to me?_

_[Your inamorata.]_

Wheatley could’ve flipped through a dictionary for the definition of the word, but he didn’t care. _In normal terms, if I can ask._

_[You were interested in her romantically. You pined after her. You two were both in the Aperture training program together, excelling before taking your separate paths, yet you yearned. Though, she had been chosen, and you were planted in the Core Identifying Protocol where you would proceed to become the Intelligence Damp—]_

_That’s enough, thanks._

He paused, thinking. If he could recall vividly— memories of laughing around a water cooler with a familiar brunette came into mind, along with testing and making silly faces at each other from across the room, studying potato science together and nodding along, pretending to be stoic scientists— it all hit him like a cold bath of water.

_Why doesn’t she know?_

_[She might. She might not. She was in a coma for so long. Amnesia can come with it. Not to mention the countless physical trauma she has endured, and that’s just putting aside the emotional suffrage—]_

Wheatley huffed.

_[You can still fix this.]_

Watching the medical machines finish up, he shook his core. “There is no need,” he drawled, finding his chamber grow dark, “I am in control. I have all I need right here. She’s with me, and she’s mine, so there’s no need for fixing.” Even though deep in Aperture, the fans had not been turned back on, and commands overlapped with another during Wheatley’s fit of egomaniacal signings, Wheatley still found himself on the very tip top of the iceberg of grace. “Nothing could go wrong.”

Everything was going wrong.

Blaring alarms sounded deep within Aperture. He tried to silence them by breaking off the radios, but to no avail, another one would spring up in the emergency radios. Who needed emergency radios, who even thought _oh, hey,_ someone’s gonna break the speaker, let’s place emergency ones. Like what? Maybe they should’ve thought about placing emergency systems to stop a crazed robot from killing everyone with their invented neurotoxin.

Wheatley had managed to scavenge up two cooperative testing artificial intelligence and proceeded to place them in chambers. However, he had not paid them mind, mostly focusing on Chell and her mission. GLaDOS had attempted ways to get into his head, but he prevailed in the end. Like always.

With this, the euphoric testing response came to a slow before disappearing completely. Wheatley had grown ornery, agitated and enraged, frustrated that he couldn’t feel his pleasure. “I healed you, I made you better,” he had claimed, “the _least_ you could do is give your boss some pleasure.”

Once, Chell leaned against the wall, leaning her head back and breathing heavily into the air, and Wheatley watched closely as sweat dripped down the side of her face, her skin glittering beneath the fluorescent lighting, her free hand rubbing against the gap between her neck and shoulder, biting her tongue.

Wheatley suddenly felt strange, unreasonable urges to hold her closely, to feel her hips beneath his sensors, to bury himself between that crook and have her overwhelming warmth capture his coolness. He felt an odd sense of libido watching her, staring at her skin, the way her lips parted and her teeth grit together, dark eyelashes fitting together when she squeezed them shut.

He noticed that without the euphoric testing response, he was inadvertently getting it from watching her. Though, it wasn’t enough to satiate. As much as this odd voyeurist way of going about his unfinished business was, he found himself seeking ways to bring her closer to him. That he did, and knowing her presence was closer, it was getting easier to handle, staring down her coordinates and watching the Y-axis grow higher and higher, rising to his.

He stopped the elevator after breaking in the coding that prevented him from speaking to them. Wheatley could not hear them, but it’s not like it mattered— the only one who was relevant to him couldn’t speak regardless.

“I’m going to be honest ‘ere, and I think honesty is very important. I think it’s important to be truthful. I mean, what’s the use in lying? I know your life is held in my claws and, honestly if I wanted to, I could drop you into the neverending pit beneath you to splat like a bug. But I’m not mean. I’m not! Really. I’m pretty amiable,” he flattered himself, “...so, with my grace, and kindness, I thought… this ain’t workin’. I like the girl, the potato a bit of a fixer-upper, but I thought… how can I make this good for me, too? With the euphoria gone and everythin’...”

Wheatley paused, debating on if he should put a halt on his words before continuing, “I realized… I like watching you move, lady. I like watching you. I always have, even before I became God,” he confessed, like a sinner in a church, “The withdrawal is easier knowing that I can sit and stare at you instead. I wonder if that’s what she thought as well.”

He hesitated. “I want you here. In my chamber. I want you.” His wiring felt fast, the volts inside of him nearing dangerous as he grew invigorated at the idea of having her alone, with him in the boss seat. “Alone,” he added like a prerequisite.

“So here’s what we’re gonna do. I’m going to take your gun, you are going to come here, and we are going to test up close. Alone.”

**Author's Note:**

> apologies for any mistakes or weird formatting! hope you enjoyed.


End file.
